


I'll be seeing you

by deceptionGrin



Category: Dimension 20, Dungeons & Dragons (Roleplaying Game), The Unsleeping City
Genre: Cunnilingus, Dirty Talk, Dream Sex, Dry Humping, Face-Sitting, Fire, First Time, Frottage, Hand Jobs, M/M, Masturbation, New York City, Pegging, Sappy Ending, Shotgunning, Trans Male Character, Unsafe Sex, Voyeurism, Wet Dream
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-09
Updated: 2019-09-09
Packaged: 2020-10-13 04:00:11
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 8,430
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20576096
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/deceptionGrin/pseuds/deceptionGrin
Summary: I'm so sorry that the first fanfic I'm writing for Dimension 20 is porn. If anyone from the cast is reading this, forgive me. It's un-beta'd, untenable, and entirely indulgent.Ricky has some startling revelations, Pete doesn't know how to healthily communicate, and our intrepid heroes become entangled in the strangest of circumstances.





	1. someone new

**Author's Note:**

> Note: I'm a trans male author and I use some feminine-coded language to describe Pete's genitals.

Ricky is in his bed, which is to be expected, as Ricky went to bed only moments ago. Only now, Pete was in his lap, blankets kicked off around them. Ricky’s room was dark and warm, more liquid than solid when he was able to look anywhere but Pete’s face. Pete wasn’t wearing his jacket or his hat right now, just a t-shirt and shorts, like he’d been sleeping next to Ricky before this started happening. And by this, Ricky meant how Pete was kissing him, full and slow and rolling like a wave over him. Time felt weird right now, for whatever reason, and he still couldn’t remember why Pete was in his room in the middle of the night, or why he was more than okay with the sudden change in activity between them. Pete pulled back for a moment to look at Ricky, pupils blown wide in the low light.

“You’re gorgeous.” Said Pete, voice a low rumble that Ricky could feel vibrating through the air. “I want to ruin you.” Ricky felt like he couldn’t breathe, the air around him too warm and thick, like someone microwaved jelly. Ricky didn’t think he was gorgeous, but the man in his lap kissing his neck and creeping cool hands under his shirt was helping him forget that, even if it was just for the moment.

“Pete…” Ricky moaned. Nothing was making a lot of sense, but those hands on his chest grounded him, he was anchored as Pete took his shirt off, sliding his hips against Ricky’s, humming low; laughing a little under his breath when Ricky grabbed Pete’s hips and ground up into him. Pete started sliding down the bed, kissing down Ricky’s chest and stomach before stopping at the elastic of his boxers. Pete looked up and smiled, face and body framed by whatever phantom light was in Ricky’s room despite the late hour.

Ricky’s phone alarm bleated on his nightstand. Ricky, for the first time in his career as one of New York’s bravest, hit the snooze button and flipped back onto his stomach, trying to chase the tail end of his dream, just before Pete was going to…

Ricky groaned and sat up, rubbing the heels of his hands into his eyes. Why was he dreaming about Pete like that? That is a most certainly uncool thing to do to a friend.

Co-worker?

No, friend.

Not that he could help what he dreamed about, but Ricky couldn’t help but feel guilty, his face on fire and boxers uncomfortably tight. He pressed a hand to himself, letting out a breath he didn’t know he was holding as he thought about Pete on his lap. Ricky’s hand pulled away as though he’d touched a lit stove, guiltily swinging his legs over the side of his bed and immediately heading to his home bench, deciding to do 50 more reps than usual to make up for hitting the snooze for such a selfish reason.

Ricky hadn’t had a dream like that before. Well, both a sex dream and a dream about a guy. He didn’t _think_ he was attracted to Pete, at least, not in the way he was attracted to Esther. He moved to the shower after his set, feeling tight around the shoulders from the lack of a proper warm up that morning. As he glanced at himself in the mirror, a little voice in the back of his head murmured _You’re gorgeous_ in Pete’s voice. Ricky locked away quickly, blushing fiercely as he got ready for work. He was worried about seeing the Johns like this, already an embarrassed wreck from his totally once-off, totally platonic dream. It was fine. Ricky was fine! This was all a total fluke.


	2. away from it

It wasn’t the last time.

This time, Ricky was sitting next to Pete on the couch in his parent’s basement, legs tangled together as Pete took a long drag of his blunt before cupping Ricky’s jaw, opening his mouth with a flick of his thumb so he could breathe smoke into Ricky’s mouth. His lips ghosted over Ricky’s, making him lean into the contact. Ricky felt silly doing this in his teenage bedroom, Dragon Ball Z poster still hanging by the dried blutack over his little Ikea desk. His eyes travelled back to Pete, who was smiling at him curiously. Ricky let out a stream of thin smoke from his mouth and Pete laughed brightly. Ricky had only smoked once; it was in college, as a challenge from one of the Johns. It had gone a lot worse than whatever he was doing with Pete right now.

They were sort of leaning over each other, half on top of one another in the hazy space. Ricky got tired of the teasing press of Pete’s lips, throwing a leg over Pete’s and grabbing his face so he could lick into Pete’s mouth properly. Ricky felt hands on his ass, and he moaned into Pete’s mouth as he slipped them under the waistband of Ricky’s jeans. He was almost painfully hard now, grinding into the warmth of Pete’s lap.

“Pete, please, can you…” Ricky started, his gut twisting pleasantly at the friction of their bodies.

“What do you need?” Pete asked.

“Anything. Your hand or mouth or something,_ I just don’t want to wake up yet.”_

Ricky could feel the edges of his consciousness begin to blur when he realised he was sleeping, his body clock stirring him awake. The last thing he felt was Pete’s ephemeral hand against his cock and mouth sucking a hot hicky into his neck. This time, Ricky was awake before his alarm, and before he could think twice, he had a hand down his pants.

It didn’t take him long to finish what dream-Pete had started. Ricky assumed he’d been humping his bed like a horny teenager. With a few tugs, he came all over his fingers, muffling a groan by turning his head into his pillow, thinking about the roll of Pete’s hips and those wicked teeth in his neck. A hot wave of shame washed over his afterglow as he realised what he’d done.

Ricky got up before his alarm got the chance, moving straight to the bathroom to wash off the guilt. Groaning even louder when he remembered that he was supposed to go over to Kingston’s house later that morning to catch up with the rest of the dream team and talk about their plans for averting the destruction of New York. Most things went over Ricky’s head at those meetings, and he felt like he never had much to contribute, other than speaking for the Grammercy Occult Society when Esther wasn’t there. Today, however, presented an even bigger challenge; having to hide the fact that he had just awoken from his second sexy dream about his friend. His dick twitched in interest, thinking about Pete again while under the spray of his shower, so he braced himself and turned the knob to cold, effectively killing any semblance of sexual interest before drying himself off. It was going to be a long day.


	3. catching little words

Ricky arrived in Harlem a few minutes early, helping himself to the half-devoured plate of hand pies sitting on the landing of Kingston’s mom’s apartment before heading upstairs. With how often he was over and how often Kingston’s mother baked, Ricky was worried he was going to need to do extra cardio to burn off the fat he would be sure to gain. Despite that, he liked coming to team meetings (or what they called team meetings, but were really just team meals) at Kingston’s house. He was greeted at the door by Kugrash when he reached Kingston’s landing.

“Morning Ricky, grab a seat at the table, we’re doing brunch.”

“Where’s Kingston?” Asked Ricky.

“In here with me!” Called Pete from over the half-wall that divided the kitchen and loungeroom. Ricky shouldered off his lettermen jacket and hung it on the coatrack, trying to be nonchalant despite the jump of his stomach.

“Awesome. Can I help?” The question came unwanted from his mouth before he could stop himself, his internal battle of not wanting to see Pete so soon but wanting to help fighting inside him.

“Don’t even try kid, they won’t let me step a fuckin’ foot in there.” Kugrash tutted, hopping up on a stool so he could be the same height as everyone.

“That’s because you’re dirty as hell, Kug.” Said Kingston, bringing over a bunch of plates and cutlery. “If you could set the table, that’d be a big help Ricky.”

“Of course, happy to help.” Said Ricky, a good boy as always. He saw Pete out the corner of his eye and swallowed thickly. He was chopping tomatoes and humming to a song coming out of his Bluetooth speaker set up on the kitchen windowsill. Ricky paused where he was standing, thinking about the soft line of Pete’s pyjamas, and he remembered the last time they all had a movie night together and he’d fallen asleep between Ricky and Sophia. He’d looked peaceful, finally, and despite being the voice of the dreams, his sleep schedule could use some improvement. Ricky worried a lot about that; about the team in general, and how he often felt like the most stable person in the group. It was terrifying, sometimes. Kugrash gave his arm a light slap.

“Hey Ricky, you alright? You spaced out there.”

Ricky blinked. “Yeah, sorry, just didn’t sleep very well last night.”

“Sorry to hear that man. Should we ask Pete about it?”

“No! No, I’m alright. I’m chill.” Ricky blurted out, dropping one of the knives on the table. He quickly finished setting the kitchenware down before sitting next to Kugrash.

“As long as you think it’s fine…” Said Kugrash. Ricky changed the subject to asking about Wally, something he knew would get Kugrash to talk for a while. Finally, Sophia and Misty arrived; Misty coming in through the front door, offering cheek kisses and half-hugs to the others. Sophia, however, came in moments later by knocking on the dining area window to be let in from the outside.

“Sophie, you know you can’t keep coming in my window.” Kingston berates her as she leaps from the windowsill with the help of his steadying hand.

“I gotta get the practice in, Jacksons been busting my balls about doing proper warmups. No days off, right March?” Sophia asked as she took the last seat at the table, piling her plate with toast and eggs. Ricky shook himself out of his daze, looking over at her.

“Sorry, yeah. For sure, what you said.” Ricky poked his toast with a fork as she frowned.

“Are you doing alright, man?” Pete asked from across the table.

“Yeah I’m just. Tired. Had a weird dream last night.” Said Ricky, staring intently at his bacon.

“Sorry to hear that.” Said Kingston. “But speaking of, how’ve you been going with the dream stuff, Pete?”

“Going great, actually! I’m really getting the hang of going into people’s dreams without waking them up. It takes some practice, but I’m thinking it’d be a great way to spy on evil dudes.”

Ricky’s head shot up and his cutlery scaped loudly against his plate. The others looked back at him, looking more and more concerned.

“Sorry, my hand slipped.” Mumbled Ricky. Kugrash chittered something under his breath. Ricky was shocked by this information, that Pete was probably _coming into his dreams _at night. Those dreams weren’t a result of some part of Ricky’s subconscious that was desperate for human connection! Everything was totally fine, and it was actually Pete trying to gauge whether or not Ricky liked him or whatever! Ricky was simultaneously relieved and more confused than ever as the others continued grilling Pete. More confused because it was perhaps the most roundabout way of seeing if someone thought you were hot.

Not that Ricky thought Pete was hot. Or, he guessed he did, maybe. Possibly. That was inappropriate though.

But so was this whole situation.

Ricky was flattered Pete would do that but off-put that he would invade Ricky’s dreams like that. Ricky supposed he felt well rested enough, and more physically relaxed than he’d been in a long time, but it was still an invasion of privacy, he guessed.

He should probably talk to Pete about all this.

Ricky looked over and saw the way the morning sunlight reflected off Pete’s jaw, softening against the scruff of his unshaved cheek, glimmering in his eyes as he grinned at Misty, who was telling an inappropriate story about hooking up with an angel. Kingston tried to cut her off before it got too explicit, but Pete shushed him and encouraged her to continue.

Ricky Matsui was soft.

He could wait another day to talk to Pete about it. Ricky couldn’t bring himself to embarrass Pete or… Reject him? Ricky supposed he ought to put an end to this, it seemed like the thing he was supposed to do in these kinds of situations. Although, Ricky wasn’t sure this was something anyone had ever experienced before, so who really knew how to deal with this complete unknown? What was the responsible thing to do? Ricky had learnt after a lifetime of people telling him what to do that it’s better not to question such complicated things, just leave the decision to someone smarter.

Another, smaller part of Ricky that he tamped down, said he wouldn’t mind seeing Pete like that again.


	4. love it too much

Ricky gets home after a full shift at the fire department a few days after the dream-team meeting. He barely managed to eat, shower and brush his teeth before passing out entirely.

This time, they’re in Pete’s bed in Kingston’s house. Or at least the bed and general feeling is that of Kingston’s house – in dreaming, everything looked shifting and ephemeral, only solid where Pete was. It’s been a couple nights since he had a Pete dream, and the sight is much more welcome than he’s willing to admit. Ricky still hadn’t bought it up with Pete, coming up with different excuses each time he thinks about it in order to put it off until the next day; until a dream happened again, of course.

Pete was pinning Ricky to the bed, laid on top of him between Ricky’s legs. They’re both entirely naked, except for Pete’s strap-on, the dildo resting next to Ricky’s erection as they kissed.

Ricky was very, very excited about this dream.

Pete pulled back and sat there, holding Ricky’s hips, smiling warmly like they had all the time in the world.

“You okay with this? You can tell me to stop whenever you need.” Pete said, pressing a kiss to Ricky’s knee.

“How did you get a sex toy in dream land?” Ricky blurted out. “Or is that one of your powers?”

Pete paused, looking at him oddly. “You’re funny, man. Ready?”

Ricky couldn’t help but nod. He couldn’t deny he wanted this, after days of thinking about it, subconsciously anticipating the next encounter. Pete pushed Ricky’s knees back and nudged the head of his cock inside Ricky, teasing him slowly. Ricky heard a noise like a bubble popping from above him just as Pete started easing fully inside him. Ricky clamped a hand over his mouth and gasped at the stretch of it, feeling suddenly realer than he expected for a dream.

“You’re tight.” Whispered Pete into the crook of Ricky’s neck as he bent him in half, fucking into him slowly and deliberately.

“Please,” moaned Ricky. “Please, please, I need you, please.” Little noises escaped Ricky’s mouth as he was filled up, days worth of want being finally released from his body as Pete took him apart inch by inch, thrust by thrust. Ricky didn’t realise how much he wanted this, wanted to get topped by this handsome guy that had stumbled into his life only weeks ago. Ricky supposed that he liked guys now, as he threw his head back. Pete bit his neck, the sensation dulled by the quick-sand feeling of dreaming, and Ricky opened his eyes to see the very real Pete the plug poking his head through the wall above him.

Dream-Pete was still railing him as Ricky stared in shock up at Pete, who looked back down with a grin on his face.

“I was gonna say sorry for interrupting, but it seems like I’m just late to the party.” Says Pete, not approaching, but watching from his vantage point.

“Um-” Said Ricky. He felt dream-Pete start to fuck him rougher, a particularly well aimed thrust causing Ricky’s reply to be cut off with a quiet groan. Despite being watched, he didn’t tell dream-Pete to stop. Dream-Pete started jerking Ricky off with one hand and pulling his hips back with the other. Despite Ricky never bottoming or knowing what it felt like, all he knew was that what Pete doing was _wonderful_. Ricky’s eyes were locked with the real Pete’s; he felt exposed in a way he never had before, being fucked open and watched, his chest heaving and skin sweating. He couldn’t look away, feeling ashamed and turned on and _wanted _all at once.

Ricky woke up with a start as he came in his underwear. Rubbing himself against his hand. He was thankful he didn’t have any roommates considering how loud he was panting, still rutting against himself. He rolled out of bed and straight into the shower, embarrassed out of his mind. Pete had looked so infuriatingly relaxed about the whole encounter, and Ricky’s stomach was twisting itself into a pretzel thinking about what it all meant. He knew he wasn’t the smartest of guys, but even someone as smart as Esther would have a hard time parsing this, surely.

When he finally dried himself off and pulled on some fresh underwear, there was a text notification waiting for him on his phone.

_From: Pete (01:21 AM)_

_We should probably talk about that, right? _

Ricky groaned and threw his phone to the other side of the bed. If he hadn’t gotten off already, he knew he’d be touching himself again, thinking about Pete thinking about him. It was strange; he was feeling more embarrassed about being desired than being caught having sex with his friends dream-self.

Ricky didn’t like to think about his body, how much space he took up, or what people thought of him. It gave him flashbacks to before he was a firefighter, being a chubby little Japanese kid from Queens that people never believed in. People only started paying attention to him after he started working out, but even then, behind every kind comment, Ricky felt his skin crawl with the feeling that they were lying. He would never be quite good enough to be loved like that. Inside, he was still that kid.

But with Pete.

It was a small little ember of a thing in his chest, but when Pete said _You’re gorgeous, _Pete was saying it just for Ricky. No performance, no expectation.

Then Ricky remembered that, really, that had been Ricky saying that to himself. Pete was just the avatar that these thoughts were manifesting through. And hey, maybe that meant that he was learning to love himself, and maybe it meant he was attracted to Pete, or to guys in general, but it didn’t mean Pete thought those things about Ricky. Truthfully, Ricky didn’t know a lot about Pete, and his stomach turned thinking about how Pete might just want him physically. He didn’t know why that was so upsetting, but it was. The idea that Pete didn’t think Ricky was worthy of anything but sex.

Ricky’s phone pinged again but he turned away from it, trying his best to get the last few hours he could out of the early morning before work.


	5. where to start

Ricky was halfway through his morning routine before he realised his phone had died after he’d thrown it to the other side of his bed. He groaned out loud in his apartment, then felt silly for acting like a petulant teenager. He could go a few hours without his phone while it charged at the fire station. He was an adult. A capable, reasonably smart-ish adult. Who needs a phone? Not Ricky Matsui, Mr. March himself.

Deep down, Ricky knew he was just kidding himself. He really just didn’t want to face Pete yet.

The morning jog to work was brisk and refreshing, helping him take his mind off the events of last night. Or this morning. Whatever. He waved at Mr. O’boli opening his coffee shop as he went past, swiftly dodging Ms. Michałkowski walking her Labrador, giving her a quick wave as he took a sharp right to the fire station. The Johns greeted him warmly as they always did, offering him the last of the coffee John C had made. Things felt normal, and right now, Ricky needed normal. He set his phone to charge in the break room while he helped the captain with paperwork for the morning, or at least until they got called in. Time moved slow, as it always did when Ricky couldn’t move around. Overactive, his parents had said.

A little bit before the end of his shift, the bell started ringing. Ricky dropped his pen and gave a quick goodbye to the captain before running into the hallway. Guiltily, Ricky was a little excited when he heard that bell, because it meant he could help someone. John S called out from the equipment station as Ricky burst through the door.

“We got an electrical fire in DUMBO, Plymouth Street!”

Ricky jumped into action, pulling on his suit and gloves before hopping in the front of John S’s truck with John W. They raced through the streets of Brooklyn, rocketing down Gold street and taking a sharp left into Plymouth in record time.

What Ricky saw next was one of his worst fears after learning about the Unsleeping city.

There was a huge fire engulfing what looked like a tech start-up, but outside that were his five friends, who were fighting what could only be described as a bridge troll. The thing was 20 feet tall and horrible, holding what looked like the casing of an electrical wiring panel that it had ripped off something; something Ricky strongly suspected was the now on-fire building. As soon as the Johns parked outside the building and leaped into action, Ricky was left with an impossible decision to make; help the city or help his friends?

Misty was the closest to him, so he ran up and lifted the mask off his face.

“What are you guys doing here? There’s a fire!”

“Yeah no shit kid! Why aren’t you answering your phone? We’ve been trying to reach you all afternoon!”

“I’ve been.” Ricky started, glancing over at Pete. “I mean, my phone was off.”

“Well fine, just help us out here.” Misty held up a hand as the troll stepped dangerously close, throwing a chaotic glimmering bolt its way.

“I have a job to do. I’ll be back soon, I promise.” Ricky took off towards the building while John W got the hose ready. Ricky could hear Misty shouting from outside, and the worried replies of his friends. This, however, was something Ricky knew he could do. He went to school for this, he trained for this, he was chosen for this job; by his city and by the questing blade. Ricky Matsui may not know how magic works, but he knew how to fight fires.

The building was slowly deteriorating around him and John S, who already had a limping civilian in his arms. Ricky ran over and surveyed the scene as he heard the other truck pull up outside. Two people were still downstairs, following John out, but there was still another story up. Ricky ran for the stairs, taking two at a time as he watched for any falling beams. His axe gleamed at his side.

On the next floor, there were cardboard boxes of stock already long gone smouldering in the corner, but no signs of anyone in the room. He ran to the only other doorway he could see, where thick smoke was pouring out of. In there, what must have been a break room, Ricky saw someone hunched over, trying to shove a fallen shelf off someone else on the ground. With the strength of community singing in his veins, he rushed over and shouldered the metal shelves off the fallen figure, who had passed out and was bleeding profusely.

“Sir, can you walk?” Ricky asked the conscious man. The man nodded dumbly as he moved into a crouch, covering his nose with his shirt. “Alright, follow me down, stay low and I’ll help you down the stairs.”

Ricky slung the unconscious figure into the fireman’s carry as he charged back downstairs, guiding the other man through the rubble and fire around them. On his way down, John C ran up, double checking for anyone else left behind. Outside, the Johns stood waiting to use the firehose. While still holding the body, Ricky laid his hands on their back and gave them as much healing as he could offer, resulting in them coughing and spluttering awake as he set them down on the asphalt.

The dream team was still fighting the troll, seemingly trying to capture it, intending on bringing it back to the Manhattan bridge. Kugrash summoned a bunch of feral geese to bite at its feet while Misty and Pete were lassoing it with spells. Kingston healed a fallen Sophia a little way away from the team, and before Ricky knew it, he was running up to them, axe in hand, ready to take this thing down.

“Ricky! You doin’ alright kid?” Called Kugrash. At the sound of his name being uttered, Pete looked over, wild eyes catching Ricky’s. Suddenly, Pete wasn’t holding a magical lasso anymore, the rope disappearing into sparkles at the break in Pete’s concentration. This meant that Misty Moore, a tiny old Pixie, was trying to tie down a bridge troll 10 times her size by herself. Pete immediately cursed and tried to summon back up something to help, but his magic started sparking and fritzing under pressure. Sophie got back up with the help of Kingston, and she quickly took out a hairdryer from her handbag.

“March, I’m gonna need a boost up, can you do that?”

Ricky harnessed the axe and laced his fingers together while the troll’s back was turned, trying to swat Misty off his leg. Sophia took a running jump, put a foot in Ricky’s hand, and with the combination of her kick and his lift, she sailed up above the troll’s head, hairdryer chord held in both hands. She wrapped the chord around the Troll’s neck, using all her might to choke it out. It stumbled back towards the fiery building, now smoking considerably with all the water being added to the fire, causing Ricky’s panic to rise in his chest. Behind her, just as the troll passed out and started falling backwards into the fire, a giant pillow appeared behind Sophia, cushioning her crash into the building. Ricky looked back over at Pete, whose outstretched hand crackled with colour and light. Sophia let go as the troll passed out and slid to the ground beneath her, landing on it like a mattress.

“Thanks for the save, Pete! I owe you one.” The team started coming back together, picking their way through the rubble in the street.

“Ricky, I hate to be that guy, but answer your damn phone!” Said Kingston.

“Yeah, where were you dude?” Kugrash asked. Ricky didn’t meet Pete’s questioning eyes.

“Phone died last night. Sorry guys.” Ricky said sheepishly, going to rub the back of his neck and touching the material of his fire suit. “Oh shoot! The fire! Sorry guys, I need to get back to work, if anyone has any healing left, the ambulance isn’t here yet and those people got pretty banged up.”

Kingston stepped forward and followed Ricky back to the civilians, who were sitting on the curb across the street. The others started walking back to the troll, Misty readying a _friends_ spell and Kugrash waking the thing up while Sophie tied its hands together with the hair dryer. Pete turned as Ricky looked back at them, and Ricky felt a tingle at the back of his head.

“_I don’t know if you got my texts, but we should talk later. In person.” _Came Pete’s voice in his head. He shivered, hearing that voice again. Ricky didn’t reply but gave a cursory nod in his direction as Kingston started healing the New Yorkers on the ground. _“Catch you later.”_

Once the ambulance arrived and Kingston explained the damage, and once Ricky helped put out the last of the fire in the building, Kingston grabbed him by the elbow and led him away from prying ears.

“I know you’re busy and all, but I was just wondering something.” Said Kingston. “You’ve been a little off this week, and Pete has been sighing up a storm all day. I’m just wondering if you two have something going on. He’s a good kid, but I know he isn’t the best at talking to other people.”

“It’s kind of a long story.” Said Ricky, removing his mask and helmet.

“Gotta pull the Band-Aid off at some point man. Talk to him.” Offered Kingston as he walked Ricky back to the engine, ready to take him back to the station so he could clock out.

“I know.” Said Ricky. “Thanks, Kingston.”

“Also, I need y’all to work it out because if I hear him sigh one more time, I’m worried he’ll manifest a storm cloud over his head that like, follows him around the house, or some other bullshit that’ll ruin my carpet. Sort yourselves out.”

“Will do, sir.”


	6. every thought of it

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This one gets nasty y'all.

Back at the station, Ricky finally checked his phone.

(6 MISSED CALLS FROM: KINGSTON BROWN)

(9 MISSED CALLS FROM: SOPHIE BIKES)

(1 MISSED CALL FROM: UNKNOWN)

(9 NEW MESSAGES FROM: PETE)

_From: Pete (01:21 AM)_

_We should probably talk about that, right? _

_From: Pete (01:26 AM)_

_I mean the sex dream, just wanted to be clear_

_From: Pete (01:28 AM)_

_I just mean like, no judgement, just want to apologise for bursting in like that, it was a first time thing, I promise._

_From: Pete (02:01 AM)_

_No judgement at all, because I thought it was cool!_

_From: Pete (02:02 AM)_

_Why did I say cool, that was so dumb. You’re probably asleep right now, which is totally fine! But also, I wouldn’t know, because I’m not checking your dreams or anything, because that’s not cool._

_From: Pete (02:04 AM)_

_To recap: having dream sex is cool, invasion of privacy totally not cool. Well, I guess what I do in Dream isn’t considered very cool to a lot of people, but this was the first sex dream I’ve seen, and I’ve never spied on anyone I know other than Kingston and Priya before._

_From: Pete (02:05 AM)_

_Don’t tell him I said that_

_From: Pete (02:07 AM)_

_You just seemed really out of it on Sunday, and I wanted to check in on you._

_From: Pete (02:19 AM)_

_Okay last message: again, we should talk about it, and I hope you’re not mad at me. You’re my friend and I care about you._

Ricky thumbed through the messages with a little smile on his face. At least it seemed like Pete was just as worried as he was. He tapped out a response as he walked down the street back home.

_To: Pete (15:03 PM)_

_I’m heading home now, if you want to come over and talk _🙊

Ricky momentarily thought about offering a neutral location but decided against it; Pete felt fine wondering through people’s dreams, so he should be fine coming over to Ricky’s loft.

_From: Pete (15:05 PM)_

_Be there soon_

He was still nervous, now for entirely different reasons, and as he unlocked the door to his apartment, a low feeling of anticipation started simmering in his gut. Ricky quickly showered and straightened his bed, not knowing what to do with himself now that he had to wait for an undetermined amount of time. He contemplated doing some reps, but he’d just showered, and he was sore from all the activity today. Should he… cook dinner? That seemed like a bit much for this kind of conversation. Instead, Ricky sat on his cramped little couch, the same one from his old room in Queens, from the dream, and waited for a call. After scrolling through Instagram for 30 minutes and a quick text conversation from his parents, Ricky finally heard Pete call up to get buzzed in. Ricky swung the door open a bit enthusiastically when Pete knocked moments later.

“Hey! Sorry, I.” Ricky paused for a beat, noting Pete’s surprised face at Ricky’s sudden appearance. Ricky had been waiting just a few feet from the door, after all. “Do you want to come inside? I mean, not like that, I meant come into the apartment. Do you want to come into my apartment?”

Pete looked like he was holding back laughter. “Thanks man, appreciate it.”

Pete looked much the same as he had that afternoon – perhaps his dark circles were more pronounced, or his hair a bit wilder under his hat, but he was still Pete. He slung off his backpack and hat, kicked off his boots, and dumped them by the foot of Ricky’s couch before sitting down, hands wedged under his thighs.

“Can I get you anything?”

“Nah dude, I’m good.” A beat passed between them before Ricky sat on the other end of the couch, nervously pulling at a bare tread in his jeans.

“Thanks for, uh, coming over.”

“Sure. Are you okay? It looks like you’re about to rip a hole in your pants.”

“I’m just. Pretty nervous, I guess.” Ricky admitted, still not meeting Pete’s eyes. “I’ve never had this kind of conversation before.”

“You and me both. Can I ask you something though?”

“Ask me what?”

“How long it’s been happening.” Ricky started turning red, his eyes flicking up to Pete’s face, who looked positively enamoured.

“I guess a week now. It had never gotten to that, uh, level before last night.”

“Huh, okay. Cool. Good to know.”

“Did you want to know… Anything else? Or was that it?”

“Nope, I’m totally content with that.”

Ricky’s stomach sank a little, confused at Pete’s reaction. “Wait, seriously?”

“Yeah. Unless, you wanted to tell me something?” Pete’s eyebrows were raised, a cocky half smile pointed in Ricky’s direction. He felt like he was walking into a trap.

“I guess I’m just confused, because it sounded like you were pretty into it last night.”

“I am.” Said Pete, still calmly smiling.

“Well, I just wondered if you wanted to elaborate on that?” The frustration coming through his voice.

“Why would you want to know that?” Pete asked, feigning ignorance. “Whatever would you do with that information?”

Ricky stood up and turned away a little, feeling like a dumb kid again. Of course, Pete just came here to tease him. “Alright, fine. You don’t have to be such a dick about letting me down, Pete.” He felt Pete’s hand encircle his wrist before he could move away.

“Sorry! I’m just. Bad at talking about feelings and stuff. Sorry. Sit back down, I’ll stop being an asshole.” Said Pete. Ricky sighed, but sat back down, still avoiding eye contact.

“No, it’s okay. It’s just really scary, not knowing how you feel about everything. I don’t want to ruin everything.”

“Well if I’m being honest, I’m kinda not sure how you feel either.”

Ricky’s head snapped up. “What do you mean? I’m the one having… thinking about… You know. That. With you.”

“Yeah but, I don’t know man! Sometimes the subconscious just does that! Dreams are weird, and I have no idea if that was a cool sex dream or a totally mentally scarring sex dream.”

“I guess I assumed because you’re a sleep wizard that you’d be able to figure it out.” Said Ricky, sheepishly rubbing the back of his neck. “This is embarrassing. I really liked those dreams. I wasn’t. Expecting them. But its been making me think more lately. About you.”

He heard a small hitch in Pete’s breath from the other side of the couch. “Okay. Cool, very cool. From what I saw, it seemed pretty…y’know.”

“Intense?”

“Hot. Insanely hot.”

Ricky cleared his throat and felt himself blush even more. He didn’t think of himself as a prude, but the way Pete was talking about everything so frankly was making him squirm. He felt his whole body combust at the thought of Pete thinking anything about Ricky was insanely hot.

“Oh, okay! That’s good to know.”

“Tell me to fuck off if I’m stepping out of line, but can you tell me about the other dreams?” Pete asked, shuffling over the couch until his thigh rested on top of Ricky’s, turned towards him curiously. Ricky’s eyes flicked down to Pete’s lips before looking instead at a corner of ceiling.

“Uh, yeah, for sure. The first time we were in my bed. You were kissing me, pushing me into the mattress.” Said Ricky, voice strained from the effort of keeping his hands to himself. He thought about that movie night again, and Pete falling asleep on his shoulder. _Warm._ “You took my shirt off and were about to… do something, before I woke up.”

Ricky felt Pete’s hand on his cheek, turning Ricky to face him.

“Can I kiss you?” He asked.

“Please.” Ricky breathed. The real Pete was a lot more eager than the dream Pete, roughly crushing their lips together and moving a hand to the back of his neck. Ricky moaned into Pete’s mouth when he parted Ricky’s lips with a tongue, sliding his mouth against Ricky’s all molten hot and sweet. Ricky could feel Pete smiling against him, over-eager and as giddy as Ricky felt. Pete pulled away slowly, tugging Ricky’s lip between his teeth.

“What about the next one? Same thing?” Pete asked.

“We were on a couch. This couch.” Ricky started, panting slightly. “We were smoking, I think, and I was in your lap. You were trying to touch me but I woke up before anything could happen.”

“Cute.” He swung a leg over so he was straddling Ricky. “Like this?”

Ricky’s hands shot to Pete’s hips, fingers skirting under his shirt where it rode up. “Um.” He said eloquently. “Different but better.”

Pete laughed a little and kissed him again. Ricky must look an absolute mess right now, with how hard Pete was kissing him. His pupils were blown wide, needy little noises escaping his mouth when Pete pulled away to breathe. Ricky felt a hand reaching under his shirt, and he broke away to take it off.

“I, um, jerked off when I woke up after that one, couldn’t help it. And this morning.” Ricky confessed, face burning with embarrassment. Pete groaned low in the back of his throat.

“You’re killing me, Ricky. You can’t tell me things like that.” Pete bit Ricky’s neck experimentally, which was rewarded with a soft noise from Ricky, who’s hips ground up into Pete’s heat. “I got off this morning too, after you woke up. Finger-fucked myself thinking about what you looked like taking my cock like that.”

“Jesus, Pete.” Ricky was grinding up more steadily the more Pete spoke. Pete fisted his hand in Ricky’s hair and yanked it back, admiring the strong column of his neck.

“You’re gorgeous. I want to ruin you.” Ricky’s heart stuttered.

“If you don’t stop talking like that, I won’t make it to the bed.” Pete made a hum of acknowledgement as he sucked a bruise onto Ricky’s chest, finally sitting back and admiring Ricky’s body.

“I’m really mad at myself right now for not bringing the right equipment, I’d like to pick up where we left off.” Said Pete.

“That might, um. Take some time. You’re the first guy I’ve ever done this with.” Said Ricky. Pete paused and gave him a kiss just under the jaw.

“I’m honoured.” He said, pulling back, and after a beat, saying: “If I make you cum right now, can you go again?”

Ricky almost came in his pants right there. “I’ll go as long as you need.” Ricky answered truthfully. He was never one to back down from a command or challenge. Pete looked like the cat who ate the canary, softly cupping Ricky’s jaw and tracing Ricky’s lip with his thumb.

“Don’t make a promise you can’t keep, man. I can go for hours.”

“Pete.” Ricky whined as Pete ground down on him, giving him some delicious friction. “I need it.”

“Good boy.” Pete kissed him on the lips, sweeter and more tender than they had kissed before. He unzipped Ricky’s jeans and pulled out Ricky’s cock while kissing down his neck. Pete licked up his palm and started jerking him off quick and dirty, resting his forehead against Ricky’s and watching him come apart under his hand. It only took a few more pumps for him to come, bucking into Pete’s fist and gripping his waist so tightly it would be sure to bruise.

“Fuck, Pete.” Ricky panted. Pete bought his fist to his mouth and sucked some of Ricky’s cum off his finger. Ricky caught his wrist and pushed it aside so he could kiss Pete again, messy and wet and tongue tasting like himself. Pete wiped off his hand on Ricky’s discarded t-shirt, wrapping his arms around Ricky’s neck. Ricky suddenly braced an arm under Pete’s ass and stood them up, carrying him towards his bedroom. Pete huffed out a startled laugh at the sudden movement.

“Jesus, man! I forget how strong you are sometimes.” Pete kissed him again as Ricky pushed the door open, again as he was flung onto the mattress, and again once Ricky impatiently pulled his shirt off. Ricky paused a moment, letting Pete adjust to lying down, carefully moving his hands across Pete’s stomach.

“Can I touch your chest? Or is it too much?” He asked. Pete’s expression softened minutely and ran a hand through Ricky’s hair.

“You can touch wherever you like, it’s all good.” Ricky’s hands trailed softly over Pete’s chest hair, moving down to splay over his Ribcage. Ricky leaned over and bit his nipple, nipping around his pec while his hands roamed the rest of his torso. Pete couldn’t feel much there anymore, but the sensation of being held and loved made him warm in more ways than one. “Ricky, as good as this is, I think you should try a little lower.”

Ricky looked up, a little red in the face. He sat back and pulled Pete’s pants and underwear down, revealing a thick thatch of hair and his wet cunt.

“Can I?” Ricky asked, looking at Pete reverently.

“If you don’t start sucking me off right now, I might lose it.” Pete laughed, a little delirious.

“Could you…” Ricky started, resting a hand over Pete and rubbing a thick thumb over his folds. “Could you ride my face, maybe?”

“Sure man, roll over.” Ricky pulled his pants the rest of the way off and flopped on his back next to where Pete had been, shoving a pillow under his head before Pete straddled his chest.

“Tap my leg if you need a break.”

Ricky was going to ask why that would be necessary but was cut off when Pete lowered his cunt to Ricky’s mouth. His mouth opened readily for it, licking deep inside Pete before sucking his cock. Pete rutted against Ricky’s face, all but fucking his mouth entirely. He had a hand on his chest and a hand in Ricky’s hair, riding him for dear life as Ricky started fingering him. At first he pressed just single digit in beside his tongue, making Pete squeak above him, before pressing in another to slowly fuck in and out of him, scissoring Pete open. All Pete’s frustrations of the afternoon were melting away as he felt his orgasm approach all too quickly.

“Fuck, your mouth is so good. How many guys have you let face-fuck you?” Pete joked. Ricky responded by pinching his leg and sucking particularly hard on his clit, making Pete’s breath hitch, pressing down and rocking further into Ricky’s face as he came hard. His thighs threatened to clamp down on Ricky’s head, but he fought the urge and supported himself by clutching the wall in front of him. Rick gave a few slow licks to Pete’s cock before pushing him back off his face. They sat panting for a few moments, calming down enough to continue.

“More?” Ricky asked, fully intending on staying under Pete until he was good and satisfied. Pete bit his lip as he looked down at Ricky, who had already returned his fingers to Pete’s wet hole, now three fingers inside.

“Ask nicely.” Said Pete, with as much command as he could summon after cumming so hard. Ricky turned his head and sucked the inside of Pete’s thigh, biting down as to leave a mark for later.

“Please, could you sit on my face? I want to make you come again.” Ricky asked, voice low and horse from exertion. Pete pretended to think for a moment before stroking Ricky’s hair.

“Alright, just this once.” Pete smiled. Ricky bought Pete back to his mouth and started tongue-fucking him alongside his fingers. Pete threw his head back and knew he wouldn’t last for long. Pete hadn’t felt like this in months. Ricky was, truthfully, the best thing that happened to Pete, aside from meeting Kingston. He was just so sweet and comforting in a way that was so rare for someone like Pete to ever meet. He felt himself become better around Ricky; healthier, kinder and more honest.

Pete didn’t notice his orgasm approaching until Ricky sucked it out of him, causing Pete to cum hard around his pretty fingers, soaking his face and neck. He could get used to seeing that every day, Pete thought as he pulled away, overstimulated for the moment. Ricky wiped his face with a small smile.

“God, you’re too good for me.” Pete smiled, shuffling down so he could properly kiss Ricky, tasting himself on the man’s tongue. Ricky moved his hands over Pete’s hips, giving his ass a squeeze. Pete felt Ricky’s erection throb against where he straddled Ricky; wet entrance so close to touching it. Pete leaned back a little and kissed Ricky’s cheek.

“How you holding up? Good for one more?”

“Sure thing.”

“I really didn’t think this would go this well.” Pete sliding over Ricky’s dick. “Next time I won’t leave my cock in my other pants.”

“Next time?” Ricky asked, blinking up at Pete as he grinded up and down his cock. Ricky gripped his thighs tightly. Pete slowed to a stop, looking down at Ricky.

“If you’d be okay with a next time, yeah. I really like you, man. I wanna spend more time with you. Not just for dream team hang outs.”

“Awesome.” Said Ricky.

“Got a condom anywhere?”

“Oh! Top drawer.” Said Ricky, pointing at the set of drawers next to them. Pete opened it, still straddling Ricky, rummaging for a moment before tearing one off a strip, ripping it open and maneuvering himself so he could carefully roll it over Ricky’s dick. He stroked it a few times before returning to his previous position. Pete gave him another kiss before sitting back a little, holding Ricky by the base and easing himself onto it. He hadn’t been paying attention when they were on the couch, but Ricky was bigger than he usually took. After coming twice, he felt pretty well prepared to take him though, sliding down with the stretch and sitting comfortably on Ricky’s lap.

“God, I’m so full right now. Can’t believe you were packing this under that fireman uniform.” Pete teased. Ricky took the opportunity to yank Pete back down by the hair, kissing him quick and dirty as Pete started riding him properly. Ricky couldn’t help but wondered how they’d ended up here, wrapped up in each other so completely after everything they’d been through together. Ricky avoided that line of thinking, instead watching himself sink inside Pete, already close.

“I don’t think I’m gonna last much longer.”

“Fuck, I’m so close.” Said Pete, reaching down to rub his clit. Ricky waited until he heard Pete’s breath hitch and felt him tighten before releasing, taking Pete by the hips and fucked up into him roughly as he came, biting down onto his shoulder. Pete whined, finally warn out. He slumped down against Ricky’s chest, easing off Ricky slowly and groaning at the emptiness he felt.

Ricky gently rolled him off to the other side of the bed, getting rid of the condom in his bathroom bin. Pete heard rustling around while his eyes were closed, and before he knew it, something soft had been thrown at his face.

“Aw what gives?” Asked Pete, pulling the material away from his face. He looked down and saw a cartoon panda winking at him on the front of a threadbare t-shirt. Ricky had pulled on a pair of sweatpants while Pete was lying around, impressive torso still on display. Pete could see his bites and bruises starting to take shape under the wide expanse of Ricky’s tan skin.

“It’s January in New York man, I don’t want you to catch a cold.” Ricky got back into bed, ignoring the fact that he should probably eat or shower or a hundred other things before cuddling with Pete. Pete pulled the shirt on, finding it fit a little oddly on his body, as cis male t-shirts often did, but overall comfortable enough. Pete gestured for Ricky to lean over, and he kissed him softly and quickly.

“Is it alright if I stay?” Asked Pete as Ricky laid down, pulling his blankets over the two of them.

“I’d like that, if you’re comfortable enough.”

“There’s no where I’d rather be man. Talk about this over breakfast?”

Ricky leaned over and kissed Pete again, humming an affirmative against his lips.

That night, when Pete spooned him, Ricky dreamed of absolutely nothing.

**Author's Note:**

> Listen this fandom doesn't even have a proper AO3 tag but here we are. Thank you so much to Peach (@riz-gukgak on tumblr) for inspiring this. Again, if any of the cast are reading this, I'm so sorry, but I won't tell anyone if you don't.


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